


Rapture

by Rainy_Memories



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Hannibal Lecter, Breathplay, Hate Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pomegranates, Power Bottom Hannibal Lecter, Rough Sex, Season/Series 02, Top Will Graham, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:40:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25047022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainy_Memories/pseuds/Rainy_Memories
Summary: Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness,for they shall be satisfied.Gospel of Matthew 5:3-10
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 6
Kudos: 73





	Rapture

**Author's Note:**

> Tag your gore (pomegranates)  
> Takes place during the time Will is pretending like he killed Freddie Lounds! God I wish he had!

"Is all of this... really necessary?" Watching as Will motions to the rich chocolate pomegranate torte Hannibal has just set down, the older man insists. "I mean, a cake? The oysters were plenty."

"What we have witnessed is the birth of your new self, Will. It is only fitting we celebrate, and it is not often I have the opportunity to bake for a dear friend's birthday." Setting down plates and getting them each a slice of torte, Hannibal pours more wine before sitting down. "This is not just a cake, it is a torte. A multilayered spongecake made with chocolate and pomegranate. The chocolate has a dark decadence, a bitter taste that smooths over the tongue and floods the senses. However, whether it sweet or bitter, chocolate is said to symbolize love and happiness. While the sweet pomegranate creates a refuge in the layers of the torte from the bitter chocolate, in many cultures it symbolizes something less sweet: blood and death. However, the Greeks believe it to symbolize beauty and eternal life. To us, they are one in the same. Blood, death, and beauty mixed with a bitter love and happiness."

"I'm not sure Alana would appreciate her boyfriend giving someone else a cake that symbolizes love and happiness." Smirking at this, Hannibal cut into the cake with the side of his fork.

"Tell me, Will, do you still desire Alana?" Delighting in seeing the younger man squirm, choking on his wine at the question, Hannibal notes the way Will's ears turn red while the rest of his face does not.

"No, not... I care about Alana, but I don't desire her, I guess. I mean, I certainly wouldn't turn her away."

"So you do desire her."

"Well, she doesn't desire me. She made that very clear after I came home from BSHCI, and she seems to much prefer you."

"Are you jealous?"

"I'm not."

"Why is that? I've stolen her away, have I not?"

"Because what you and I have is more than Alana could give either of us." It takes everything in Hannibal to contain the happiness he feels at that statement, and the doctor gives a satisfied hum while eating a bite of cake. While Will is surely trying his best to keep his contempt hidden, Hannibal can smell it on him. He can feel the slight grind of Will's teeth, the way he grips his fork a little tighter and his eyes focus on his glass of wine. Even if he doesn't care to admit it, he's surely jealous. Although which party he's jealous of... Hannibal would like to think it's Alana. After all, what else would there be to be jealous of if what they have together is so divine that he does not seek companionship?

"Perhaps we should let dear Alana go. Relieve her of her worries." This causes Will to freeze. "I'm sure, together, we could create a masterpiece worthy of her." Of course, Hannibal has no intention of harming Alana Bloom. While he is sleeping with her and further fostering their relationship from it's previous state purely to see it's effect on Will, he does enjoy her company. If possible, he'd like to avoid harm coming to her for as long as the circumstances permit it. Somehow, after meeting Will, all of his relationships seem to have deepened. He's even rather fond of Jack, who should be his enemy. "The pomegranate is said to resemble a heart. Alana is one who you can see into her heart simply by looking into her eyes. Fear, love, disdain; all plain to see. I have no doubt she would taste as sweet."

"No, absolutely not." Feeling rather hot under the collar, Will ground his teeth. "Alana hasn't done anything to deserve it."

"Hasn't she? Much like Uncle Jack, did they not push you further than I did? In fact, if not for them, we would never have met."

"Isn't that reason to be grateful?" Will tries to turn his attention back to the torte, finding it delicious despite wanting it to be anything but. A chef and a baker, huh? _Hannibal is always full of surprises._

"Are you grateful, Will?" There's a pause.

"Aren't you?"

"Of course. If not for you, who would be there to understand me? To stand judgement over me? I can think of no finer end than the one I might find at your blade." Not that he anticipates his time coming anytime soon. Will previously wanted him caught, now they stand side by side. Hannibal fully intends to see his transformation through as far as there is to go. Until Will finally comes into his own, like Raguel striking down demons and fallen angels, Hannibal cannot wait to see the glorious blood red corona that Will will emanate at that time. "You do still intend to kill me, after all. When the day comes, I'm expecting us both to be swallowed by flames." The conversation dies out for the time being, Hannibal keeps their wine glasses full even after putting the leftover cake away. Shedding his vest and tie, the doctor checks the time. Fairly late... no doubt, if he doesn't keep his guest entertained, Will will leave and go home back to his dogs for the evening. Making his way to stand next to the seated younger man, Hannibal mulls over what exactly there is they can talk about that will get his desired results.

"Don't you think that you should stop seeing Alana?" Ears perking up at this, Hannibal keeps a neutral face. Just the right thing to sink his teeth into. "The goal was to turn everyone against me, wasn't it? I already told you, she pretty much wants nothing to do with me."

"Are you worried for her, Will?" He looks away. "Trying to protect her like you could not protect dear Abigail?" Not flinching when Will stands suddenly and pushes him back into the wall, Hannibal cannot help but think it's an awful waste of wine that's been spilled from the sudden movement. But while it's a waste, it is not for naught. The anger that flashes in Will's eyes is so delicious Hannibal has to keep himself from licking his lips. "Was it something I said?" Will doesn't respond, mind reeling, searching for the words or the action that best suits the situation. Murder, perhaps, is the answer for once. But he can't jump the gun.

"Leave her alone." He very nearly growls it, and Hannibal watches as the special agent's Adam's apple moves with a thick swallow. Holding back the rage and the desire for bloodshed no doubt. He's drunk, but holding it well. Hannibal can't help but want to push, bringing his hand up to gently caress Will's cheek.

"What will you do to me, Will?" They're both warm from the alcohol, and Hannibal can tell they're both feeling warm from the natural aphrodisiacs as well. He may as well have made a Valentine's Day meal rather than a birthday one. His fingers slide down the sharp angle of Will's jaw, down his throat and over his collarbone. "I can surely be persuaded away from her." His Adam's apple jumps again, beautiful blue eyes searching. The older man leans down and forward, fingers tugging at Will's shirt collar and voice rich in his ear. "It is not just Alana whose heart I imagine tasting." Will starts to back up, but Hannibal stays on him until the younger man's back hits the dining table.

"You're drunk." Will says it, spits it, almost disgusted. He puts one hand on Hannibal's chest to push him back but the doctor doesn't budge, and he hates himself for thinking about how good Hannibal smells in this moment. Maybe they really should talk aftershaves.

"Not that drunk, clever boy." When Hannibal kisses him, Will knows for sure that now should be when he's disgusted. He knows he definitely shouldn't gasp just enough that allows the kiss to deepen, that he shouldn't push forward into the older man's mouth. His heart racing, Will's teeth drag over Hannibal's lower lip when he feels the doctor's thigh pressing between his legs. He shoves Hannibal back with more meaning this time, creating some distance between them before closing it himself. Something deep in his stomach burns, and he decides that he can blame the alcohol for it in the morning after a moan comes from Hannibal's throat when he's kissed aggressively against a wall, teeth dug into his lip and drawing blood. When they pull apart to breathe, pupils wide, Hannibal lets out a low single syllable laugh. "Shall we take the party into the bedroom?"

 _What Will needs,_ Hannibal thinks, _is a simple nudge in the right direction._ They tumble their way to the bedroom. Will has no idea where he's going, but stays on top of Hannibal the whole time to keep from shifting the power in the situation. Once they arrive, Will all but slams Hannibal against the door to close it. But, now that they're here, he falters, unsure of what he's gotten himself into. "Well?" Hannibal says expectantly, forcing an answer to the front of Will's mind without a chance to second guess it.

"Get on your knees." There's not a lot of room between them and the door, but Hannibal figures that's the point. So, adjusting his now rather uncomfortable slacks, he lowers himself to his knees while retaining eye contact. He watches as Will's tongue glides over his teeth, one hand running through blond locks that Hannibal leans into. "Why are you still with Alana?"

"Why do you think I am, Will?"

"To get under my skin."

"Perhaps." Wetting his lips, voice thick, Hannibal gasped lightly when his hair was pulled especially hard. "Are you sure about this?"

"Oh, I'm very sure." Will says, irritated and hard while making quick work of his belt.

"Aren't you afraid I'll bite it off? The penis is quite a delicacy in China." Working very hard to keep cool and not laugh, Hannibal smirks up at Will, showing a glint of his canines. Will does not look nearly as amused, mumbling something about the doctor being a smug bastard that Hannibal can't entirely hear. When he's finally face to face with Will's half hard erection, he can't suppress a shudder, obliging the tug on his hair to get to work. Hannibal takes his time with it, savoring the experience for as much as it's worth. Long drags of his tongue up the underside of Will's shaft, running a thumb over his slit and spreading the pre-cum, making the tip glisten in the low lighting of the room, loosely stroking it. Will allows the slow pace, Hannibal wonders if it's because he's not used to being so aggressive during sex or if the younger man is just relishing it. He knows he certainly is. The glassy look in Will's eyes, the way his mouth hangs open just slightly, the smell of arousal... until finally it's enough and he growls, pulling harder on Hannibal's hair. Taking Will into his mouth now, Hannibal moaned deeply, Will echoing the sentiment above him.

"Fuck." He doesn't want to enjoy this. The last person he wants to be having a sexual encounter with is Hannibal Lecter. Will wishes he could close his eyes, pretend it's someone else, but he's transfixed. The way he disappears into the warm heat of Hannibal's mouth, trapping the older man between his body and the door and forcing him to deep throat; the way Hannibal's throat spasms around him but he just moans instead of choking, looking like he's tasting something otherworldly. Adjusting somewhat, trying to get a better angle, Will started to move a little more forcefully, almost colliding Hannibal's head back against the door. Anything to break that cool. To wipe off that overly smug, satisfied look on Hannibal's face... but it just wasn't giving. Starting to pull away to reconsider a plan of action, Will found himself having to push Hannibal off of him just to get free, dick twitching at the sight of the older man's messy face and the way he licked his lips. "Get undressed. Don't... stand up." Taking off the rest of his clothes, figuring that he's gotten himself this far he may as well see it through, the special agent found himself resenting the fact that Hannibal still seemed plenty full of grace even while wiggling out of his pants on the damn floor.

Hannibal takes the time to fold his clothes, giving Will a chance to survey the room. The navy blue feels calming, with an underlying hint of power. "Have you had sex with men before, Dr Lector?" His fingers trail on the blue duvet, eyeing the bedside tables.

"Many times. Like with food, I remain open minded. I don't discriminate based on something as trivial as gender. ...Though sex is not something I would ever enjoy to take by force." He follows Will's gaze. "The lubrication and condoms are in the right table, second drawer." Licking his lips while Will walks over to it, Hannibal's mind quickly flashes over recipes for rump roast and momentarily can't decipher if he's feeling hunger for flesh in a sexual manner or because he's just simply still hungry.

"What do you imagine we'll do?"

"...Guessing by your posture and current attitude, I doubt I would be penetrating you." Will lets out a sharp laugh, and Hannibal watches as the younger man sits on the bedroom bench. "Perhaps you will penetrate me." Being motioned to crawl over, he does it slow and purposefully, stalking after Will with a predatorial look in his eye. Will wonders how that man could be in such a vulnerable position and still command the room. He feels almost as if Hannibal will pounce and eat him alive, and a shiver runs through him at the idea of beating the doctor to the punch. Once the older man arrives at his feet, Will watches as he gently takes the younger man's calf in his hands and lips ghost up along his shins.

"Is that what you want?" Voice sticking more than he would've liked, Will swallowed hard at the response.

"I want anything you are willing to give me." _Even death._ "In return, I want to give you what you desire."

"You?"

"Satisfaction." Hands on each other's arms, Hannibal moves up quickly to catch Will's mouth with his own. Desperate, hungry, clawing at each other like starved animals. The doctor pushes Will back against a gray and white roll pillow, forcing him to arch uncomfortably into the touch. Hannibal easily pins him down, the angle working against Will, but there's no pain in it. Instead, he's overwhelmed with the pleasure of their heated erections coming into contact. He curses against Hannibal's mouth, trying to find some leverage. Grabbing the striped pillow out from under him, Will curls under the larger man, bringing a foot up to his chest and shoving him off. Scrambling somewhat to get purchase on the bed, he grabs the bottle of lube and tosses it to the man standing across from him.

"You think you can satisfy me?"

"More than anyone else."

"Prove it." Wetting his lips, Will regains his posture. "Open yourself up for me."

"May I at least lie on the bed?"

"No." Will savors the look of mild irritation that flashes over Hannibal's face. But regardless of how irritated he is, the doctor still situates himself on the floor and spreads his legs. Sliding to the edge of the bench with the condom, Will watches and slowly strokes himself in timing with Hannibal's own hand.. The strokes are slow, leisurely. A distraction. Hannibal's fingers, however, are moving methodically around his hole. Massaging the sensitive skin before letting out a deep breath and entering himself. He breathes in sighs and measured breaths, working efficiently with copious amounts of lube to aid him. Hannibal watches Will across from him with no ounce of shame, only wild expectation and curiosity. It's easy for him, displaying himself in a more undignified manner, because it's for Will. Hannibal can see it in his eyes, the younger man's empathy running rampant inside of him, drinking in Hannibal's arousal and desire. By the time he's two fingers in and three knuckles deep, both of them are breathless and slick with pre-cum.

"I'm ready when you are, Will." Hoping that he'd be allowed up on the bed, Hannibal isn't surprised when Will instead joins him on the floor. Legs framing Will's hips, he cranes his neck back with an indulgent moan feeling Will enter him. For all of his righteous wrath and fury, the special agent still takes his time with it. Hand being swatted away from his erection, Hannibal clenches his jaw, composure slipping. "Are you making love to me?" A gentle taunt, enough to make Will's hips snap against him.

"Do you and I have the capacity for love, Dr Lecter?" Pinning one of Hannibal's hands down next to his head, Will uses his other hand for balance on the older man's chest, pulling at the hair. "That's not what I'd call this."

"What would you call it?"

"This? ...A warm up." A steady push and pull, accentuated with every three thrusts being especially well aimed. Enough to make Hannibal want more, impatience bubbling just under the surface. As much as Will wants to go hard and fast, watching Hannibal's expression tense, his fists clench and relax, his clear irritation when Will grabs his hip roughly to keep him still to fuck into at a tortuously slow pace. But once it get's comfortable moving into Hannibal, and overly uncomfortable on his knees on the hardwood, Will hauls both of them up and shoves Hannibal toward the bed. "Hands and knees." Hannibal doesn't hesitate, and neither does Will. Going rough and fast, the doctor has to grab the headboard with one hand just to keep himself from being pushed into it. Will's nails dig into his shoulder and hip while brutally pounding into him, and it almost feels better than killing.

"Kurva-" The Lithuanian slipping past clenched teeth, Hannibal wondered if Will would dig his nails in enough to draw blood. He'll surely bruise from the grip alone, and he's suddenly considering it a mercy that Will took his time to start. It's a rare occasion that Hannibal is speechless, only able to gasp for air and let out shuddering moans. It's exhilarating and they can both feel it. Will's acceptance of a more carnal desire, past his excuses and reasons, and executing it in such an aggressive fashion- a far cry from the boy next door appearance he once kept- is enough for Hannibal to feel ecstasy from alone. The younger man doubles down on it. Hannibal's elation mixed with the pleasure from dominating him so completely, finally being the one in charge, to give Hannibal a taste of the punishment he's due. There's something animalistic about it, and the idea of killing Hannibal while doing this makes Will's skin feel like electricity just shot through it. It would be so easy, and Hannibal would let him do it. Hell, the doctor would enjoy it. Will could strangle him to death or cut his throat, gut him, even. If Will weren't himself, if he was the monster Hannibal so wanted him to be, he'd do it. But there's a different retribution awaiting him.

When Will feels himself getting close, he buries one fist in the roots of Hannibal's hair. The sharp gasp of pain followed by an extremely self indulgent moan from Lecter making his stomach knot in need. Will pounds his orgasm into Hannibal, and the older man reaches to chase his own release only to be denied again. "Will." Teeth grit, prostate abused, Hannibal slams his hips back to meet a thrust half way only for Will to pull away entirely. Dropping to his elbows to catch his breath, he watches for Will's movement between his legs.

"Get on your back, Hannibal." Watching the man turn over, Will pants down at him and grab's the older man's still hard length in a rough grip. Hannibal's a mess: red faced, breathless, impossibly hard and teetering on the edge. "Maybe I'll leave you like this." Will sees the other man's jaw tighten, and he let's his cum drip from the condom and onto Hannibal's stomach before tossing it aside. "Make you finish yourself off."

"I won't finish myself off, Will." The amusement in his voice almost makes Will's eye twitch. "I'd call Alana." Like flicking a switch, Will is back on him. Gripping the sheets as Will's hand grips his throat, mercilessly pumping Hannibal's dick with the other, he tilts his chin as if to offer more of himself up.

"If you touch her," Will's voice is gravely and hardly his own, tone anything but gentle and words drenched in malice. "I promise I will make you regret it." His grip tightens and shifts upward, effectively cutting off air supply entirely and making Hannibal squirm. "I'll skin you alive... butcher you. I'll keep you just alive enough to suffer through it. Just on the edge of death, never over it. I'll feed you yourself, and make you regret what you awakened in me." Hannibal looks up at him, pupils blown and color all but nonexistent. The noise of his struggle is music to Will's ears, but he catches the older man mouthing something up at him... and Will can't tell if it's a dare or a plea.

_Do it._

Air rushing into his lungs as he comes onto himself, Hannibal feels purely euphoric. If he were a religious man, a less sinful man, he'd be sure Will Graham just sent him to heaven. The release is so powerful his entire body trembles from it. Hannibal gulps in air and Will's hand slows from where it was viciously working. For a few very long moments, they just sit there catching breath. Will fidgets awkwardly next to him, unsure what to do. _He wants to comfort me._ Hannibal thinks, _instinctual aftercare after harsh intimacy._ Sitting up now, he takes the younger man's face in one hand, leaning in for a gentle kiss. As much as he loves to see Will stuck here, shocked at the show of his own aggression, Hannibal prefers him present. The languid kisses contrast nicely to their bruised lips, and Will eventually settles back into himself, rapidly attempting to compartmentalize this evening away in his brain to worry about later. When the older man pulls away, Will resents the way his heart flutters at the look of adoration in Hannibal's eyes.

"Shall we get cleaned up?"


End file.
